


Feel Like Paradise

by Houseofmalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: As One Does, Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Blackcest (Harry Potter), Cousin Incest, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sneaking off to fuck that disowned cousin, Song: Hold It Against Me (Britney Spears), Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:17:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23012110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houseofmalfoy/pseuds/Houseofmalfoy
Summary: If I said I want your body now, would you hold it against me?
Relationships: Sirius Black/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	Feel Like Paradise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dalula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalula/gifts).



> Written for Hogwartsonline's OWLs for the song "Hold it against me" by Britney Spears

_ If I said my heart was beating loud _ _   
_ _ If we could escape the crowd somehow _ _   
_ _ If I said I want your body now _ _   
_ _ Would you hold it against me? _ __   
_ 'Cause you feel like paradise _ _   
_ __ And I need a vacation tonight

oOo

Sirius shouldn’t be standing this close to her.

Narcissa is holding a glass of veela champagne in her hand, glancing around the crowded ballroom at the townhouse to which she has been invited as Mrs Lucius Malfoy. She’s surrounded by the best of society and the most influential of the ministry and so many other people who are not as important but still  _ there _ .

Which means that Sirius should not be standing close enough for her to get lost in his storm grey eyes, shouldn’t be close enough for Narcissa to know it would just take one more step to be pressed against him. 

She wants to be pressed against him, and that’s another thing that shouldn’t be happening. Not here, not right now.

The idea that he shouldn’t be this close to her, the knowledge that she shouldn’t be wanting him closer, aren’t enough to stop her heart from beating faster when he leans past her to hand his empty glass to a passing elf. Sirius only brushes against her briefly, and it only makes it worse that just that slight touch makes her want more.

He knows exactly what he does to her. It’s part of the game they have going on between them, and it’s what she loves and hates about Sirius Black.

He is everything Narcissa shouldn’t want. He’s everything she can’t have and everything she shouldn’t be thinking about. She suspects that that’s precisely why just the promise that lies within that arrogant grin of his has the power to drive her wild, make her lose all her reservations and give in far more easily than she should allow herself. 

Sirius is the only one who can make her stop caring about everything she should or shouldn’t be, do and want. 

Narcissa simultaneously adores and despises him for it.

He knows it, he always has.

They’re in an all too public place with people who know her all too well and whose judgement matters all too much to Narcissa. That should make her step back, say something haughty to let everyone around her know she does not regard him differently than she ought to, and not look back at him for the rest of the night. 

Instead, she doesn’t even move away when he leans into her with an audacity that doesn’t even offend her anymore and she accepts the shiver that runs down her spine when he whispers “I’ll be in the first guest room I find upstairs, right upstairs. I’ll wait for five minutes, Cissa.”

Sirius is gone the next second and Narcissa is left alone on the ballroom floor with her arrogant exterior firmly in place and the softest of aches between her legs. At times like these, she despises the effect he has on her, but she finds herself unwilling to fight it all that hard tonight. 

Narcissa moves through the crowd that still occupies the ballroom with all the grace she possesses, making small talk that she lets last as short as she possibly can before she, at last, reaches the entrance of the room and disappears upstairs. 

The hallway upstairs isn't difficult to navigate and although Narcissa makes an effort to keep her composure elegant as it should be she finds her steps quicken the closer she gets to the nearest guest room. 

Sirius is already there, and the moment Narcissa enters the room she finds rough lips crashing against her own with an urge that tells her he's been waiting for this all night.

At once, all Narcissa's resolve melts away when she answers her cousin's kiss with a passion only he can draw from her. The door closes behind her and as soon as it does her back is pressed against it. 

Sirius wastes no time. Within moments he’s lifted her up, pushing her further into the door when he hikes up the skirt of her gown so aggressively she momentarily fears he might’ve ripped the fabric; that unimportant worry slips from her mind as easily as his tongue slips into her mouth when he kisses her a second time. 

Narcissa gasps, chuckling for a moment when Sirius hooks her legs around his waist and she knows him well enough to be able to predict precisely what he’s planning next. The next moment he’s lifting her away from the door and her mind’s racing too quickly to know for sure if he’s locked it or not. It ceases to matter when she is all but thrown onto the luxurious guest bed with Sirius Black towering over her. 

In Narcissa’s not at all humble opinion, Sirius looks utterly gorgeous when he’s about to fuck her. 

His thick curls are slightly out of place, falling into his face in a way that only makes him look more attractive to her right now; Sirius is looking at her with eyes that have darkened to the shade of rain clouds, hungrily staring down at her while he undoes the clasps of his robes. 

Narcissa shifts further onto the bed, the duvet tickling the sole of her foot when she bents up one of her knees. She catches his arrogant grin with a smirk that only dares him to go on with his plans already, propping herself up on one elbow. Thank Salazar he’s never been a patient man. 

Sirius shrugs off his robes in a hurry, kicking off his shoes as he does so until he’s standing in just the unbuttoned jeans he’d apparently been wearing beneath his dress robes. Appalling, Narcissa thinks to herself, refusing to acknowledge how much the sight of Sirius’ obvious hardness through muggle jeans aroused her. 

His jeans are only half pulled down when he’s on top of her at last, kissing her like it’s the last night either of them will be alive, and Narcissa can’t help but moan into his mouth when she feels his weight above her. Her gown hiked up further while her hands find the edge of his pants and it takes all the self-control she possesses to tease him just a little instead of ripping them off at once. 

Her nails delicately trace over the obvious bulge in Sirius’ pants and Narcissa smirks into their kiss when he bucks into her touch immediately. He bites down on her lower lip and kisses her again the next moment, every bit as rough and every bit as passionate as she needs him to tonight. 

This is why she keeps coming back to him, why they keep coming back to each other. 

Narcissa knows perfectly well about herself that she is beautiful beyond comparison . If she ever needed to, if she should ever want to, she could so easily have anyone at all. Any of the wizards and witches around her would give her everything she could ask for if she even made the slightest suggestion she should desire them to. 

None of them are Sirius. None of them could ever compare to Sirius. 

Narcissa is married and Lucius treats her like the queen she knows herself to be, but he’s not Sirius and he’s not capable of making her feel the way Sirius does. There’s something about the man that’s currently rutting against her like he can’t constrain himself any longer that brings things out in her that only he can. 

Sirius is the delicious combination of the aristocratic ways and looks of the society she loves so much and everything about him that screams muggle, that screams forbidden. He’s a perfect mix of high cheekbones and arrogant smiles she’s grown up with and cigarette burns on muggle jeans that should disgust Narcissa but only make her want him more desperately. 

He’s the only one who can make her enjoy the scent of muggle cigarettes; the only one who can make her want to sneak away from events that she loves to let herself get fucked into oblivion by one of the only people that should be unavailable to her; the only one who leads her to act on her worst impulses and desires. Narcissa loves him for it, and she can’t stay away from him even if she tried. 

She’s long stopped trying.

Narcissa’s been married for four years now but she still lets Sirius’ teeth scrape her neck, lets him bite down at the spot there that he’s long ago learned drives her mad and lets him mark her as if she is his. Part of her wishes she was, but that’s only a part. 

Sirius will never be more to her than these stolen moments. 

He cups her right breast through the fabric of her dress and whatever she was thinking of before is lost when she, at last, pulls down Sirius’ pants enough to free his cock, letting her fingers tease it until he moans against the skin of her neck. He sounds out of breath before he’s even begun to fuck her and Narcissa revels in that knowledge. 

She knows just how to drive him wild when she looks up to meet his gaze with a challenging, effortlessly confident, smile. For all she loves this desperate look on Sirius, how hungry he is just for her, Narcissa is every bit as eager to feel him inside of her. She lifts herself up on her elbows, bringing her lips to his ear where she bites on his lobe for a moment before whispering “so what are you waiting for, Black?”

Narcissa knows all too well that he hates every reminder of being part of their family, of having a last name that so publicly stand for everything he wants to fight against, and perhaps it’s low of her to also know that nothing riles him up as much as that last name — the last name they once shared — on her lips. 

She’s proven right when the sound of tearing fabric when her knickers are shoved aside is drowned out in another all-consuming kiss not even a moment after he’s grunted out “don’t test me,  _ Malfoy _ .” Sirius devours her, eats her up like she’s starved him for weeks, like she might decide at every moment to continue starving him. Narcissa feels his need, his hunger for her that she longs for in her day-to-day life more than she’d ever admit to even Sirius himself, and she revels in it. 

This is what she loves most about him. 

There’s a lustful bordering on angry flicker in his eyes that she knows is leftover from her using his last name when he plunges his fingers into her so sudden that she whimpers at the slight, familiar, pain it comes with. A second later Sirius’ fingers hook themselves onto her lips, breaking apart their kiss, and Narcissa wastes no time licking herself off his skin. 

She wouldn’t think about doing such things with Lucius, but just the idea of Sirius’ fingers in her mouth, coated in her wetness for him, drives her a little mad with desire. 

The next thing she feels is Sirius’ strong hands taking hold of her wrists, pinning her down onto the bed they’re borrowing from whatever esteemed politician it is whose name she forgot the moment she entered this room. Their eyes lock and there’s a single moment of silent anticipation that hangs between them, a moment in which despite everything that keeps them apart she feels closer to him than anyone else in the world. 

Narcissa winces then, gasping even though she knew it was coming when Sirius enters her and barely gives her time to adjust to him. She doesn’t want him to, not really. Not tonight. 

There have been times between them that Narcissa would sooner describe as making love, times where they were patient with one another, where he was gentle with her. There have been times where she could lay back and close her eyes and pretend they had a chance at making this work, pretend they could ever be together. 

Tonight she doesn’t want that fantasy. Tonight she wants to forget the war and the people downstairs and the entire rest of the world with them, and she wants Sirius to be the one to make her forget it all. 

Narcissa doesn’t need to ask him to do that, he knows her well enough to see what she needs. He delivers perfectly: Sirius thrusts into her, barely taking time at all to build up his pace and it’s all she could’ve asked from him. Narcissa tilts her head back, moaning with her eyes shut tightly closed. 

She wants to touch him, to reach out to him and run her hands across his back and dig her nails into his shoulder, to pull him even closer to her than he already is. Simultaneously, Narcissa loves the feeling of being pinned against the bed the way she is, completely under her lover’s control. 

Sirius draws moan after moan from her, pounding her into the mattress in a rough and fast-paced rhythm that she only now realises she’s been craving all night. It’s pure perfection wrapped into just another way in which he’s the exact opposite of what she should want. 

Tonight Narcissa should’ve been the picture-perfect trophy wife of Lucius Malfoy that she has been for four years now, she should have been downstairs talking politics with ministry officials whose name she would only pretend to care about and she should have been sharing gossip with other Ladies over flutes of veela champagne. She should have been perfect, as she always is. 

Narcissa should not be biting Sirius’ lip when he kisses her deeply, drowning his moans in her mouth and she shouldn’t be feeling like absolutely anything but Sirius Black and the way he makes her dizzy with pleasure matters in the world. 

She wraps her legs around his waist for lack of mobility in her arms, pulling him into her according to his pace. Her gown sticks between their bodies, rubbing against her skin in a way that would be painful if Narcissa could focus on it at all but there’s no way she could even if she wanted to. 

There are beads of sweat on her forehead and her collarbones as she tenses up her legs to stop them from shaking and the burning, urgent, heat in her stomach and between her legs which pulses with each new thrust is all she can really feel. Narcissa throws her head back, whimpering between moans when she comes. 

She takes it as a good sign that this time she can’t immediately get herself to open her eyes when Sirius continues to pound into her; when she hears him groan as she tightens around him. Narcissa is breathing heavily, trying to catch her breath as good and as bad as that goes while forcing herself to look up into her lover’s eyes. 

Sirius looks like he’d say something if he had the breath to spare, but with each thrust into a now far more sensitive area than before Narcissa gets to watch his expression change until she knows he’s close. 

Her wrists are released at the same time she sighs when his seed spills into her and Narcissa looks him in the eye as he comes. She feels strangely at ease. Exhausted and panting trying to catch her breath, stuck in a dress that’s partly ripped and damp with the sweat of two people, beneath the weight of Sirius as he only moves off of her half.

“You’re okay?” Sirius asks, leaning in the moment she nods in response. He kisses her sloppily but far more tenderly than before, obviously out of breath but it hardly matters when Narcissa runs her fingers through his wet hair with her sore wrist, pulling herself up against him. 

Saliva mixes with their sweat and Sirius breaks the kiss to softly laugh at her when Narcissa moves one of her hands in an attempt to straighten out her gown. She doesn’t get a chance to reply when he kisses her again instantly, every bit as loving as before.

If they hadn’t been so exhausted and if she hadn’t been all too aware they’ve used up their time together, Narcissa might’ve tried to persuade him into another round. For now, she begrudgingly contends herself with this lovely bit of unexpected but welcome affection. For just a few moments she allows herself to get lost in Sirius’ gentle kisses.

_ Hadn’t she told herself before that she’d stopped letting herself pretend she and Sirius could have something real?  _ Narcissa pushes that thought out of her mind, but pulls away from her lover all the same. 

“We should get back,” she tells him in a whisper. Narcissa wishes that the tone of her voice wasn’t so regretful. 

“I know.”

It’s a little while longer before he leaves after countless of extra kisses and whispered promises of seeing each other again soon that neither of them really believe are going to be kept. When Sirius closes the door behind him, Narcissa lays back on the now cleaned up bed again and closes her eyes for just a moment. 

She doesn’t let herself pretend they can be anymore. They can’t, she knows they can’t and she has made her peace with that many years ago. 

Narcissa can’t help but think of how perfect it would be if they  _ could _ . 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are of course always appreciated!


End file.
